As U2 have proved, modesty is never a virtue for world-famous arena-rock bands -- not even those with a well-pronounced spiritual bent. That's something Creed frontman Scott Stapp has learned from fellow churchboy Bono, even if his critically maligned neo-grunge outfit take more of their musical cues from Metallica than from U2. So it wasn't much of a surprise to hear Stapp comparing Creed to the legendary Led Zeppelin in a recent MTV interview that coincided with the release of their third and latest album, Weathered (Wind-up): "You can say what you want about this band, but it's undeniable, and it's kind of very similar to Led Zeppelin. The first three albums, no one gave them any credit. They got bashed basically from the entire media, and it wasn't until their fourth album that everybody got to accept the fact that Led Zeppelin was gonna be there and be around. We're kind of starting to feel that way now."

Stapp may sound brash for a guy who's been on the radio for only four years, but it's hard to argue with him, especially with Weathered spending eight weeks atop the Billboard 200 album chart before being knocked off by country star Alan Jackson. When Creed -- who play a sold-out show at the FleetCenter in Boston next Thursday -- released their first album, My Own Prison (Wind-up), in '97, grunge had only recently kicked the bucket. There didn't seem to be much room in the marketplace for Stapp's yearning Vedderisms, and the band's tuneful crunch sounded woefully tame next to the discordant metal racket that was beginning to dominate the rock landscape.

But just as grunge was receding from the charts, it was also making a remarkably quick transition to classic rock -- especially in culturally remote areas like Creed's jock-friendly home town of Tallahassee (home of perennial college-football powerhouse Florida State University). My Own Prison took off slowly, endearing itself to the proverbial heartland youth with its guitar-driven brawn and Stapp's quasi-Christian meditations on the meaning of life. Music-industry observers were still trying to explain the band's success when Creed released their diamond-selling '99 follow-up, Human Clay (Wind-up), which made them bona fide superstars with the pop-crossover anthems "Higher" and "With Arms Wide Open."

Whether or not Creed are the next Zeppelin, it's become clear that they're "gonna be there and be around." What's more, the band have shown they can do a pretty bad-ass Zeppelin impersonation when they want to -- notably on Weathered's warm fuzzy first single, "My Sacrifice." Like many of their songs, it's a typical "Stairway"/"Sweet Child o' Mine" mini-epic: quiet unaccompanied guitar intro, huge rock chorus, brief emotional tag at the end (in this case, "I just want to say hello again"). But the clincher is drummer Scott Phillips's gonzo snare whacking at the tail end of the bridge, easily one of the hottest John Bonham air-drum moments to hit radio in a long time.

Stapp's Zeppelin allusion also brings to mind a more seasoned pack of grunge ripoff artists: Stone Temple Pilots, who were roundly booed by critics when they came out but are now considered one of the best hard-rock bands of the '90s. Compare Creed to STP on the Zeppelin scale and it becomes clear that Creed's biggest commercial asset is also their primary artistic liability: they keep making the same album over and over again. I admit it was pretty cheap the way STP followed the Zeppelin evolutionary formula (weird acoustic instruments + abstract compositional turns + incapacitating substance-abuse problems = rock immortality) to a T. But it was also a hell of a lot more fun than hearing Creed play "Kashmir" 10 times in a row every two years.

On Weathered, Creed do most of their branching out in the lyric sheet, which still deals with matters of spiritual exploration but no longer offers much in the way of traditional religious imagery. "My Sacrifice" is nothing more than a giant bear hug to a long-lost friend: Stapp does sing of flying above "all the others" and finding peace within your mind, but he doesn't get any deeper than that. He's still one righteous dude, though, and anyway he pretty much cemented his place in Christian rock history when he uttered the epithet "goddamn" in the middle of the otherwise devout "What's This Life For."

As for the band, they work in a few subtle variations on their signature feel-good rumble, and they mercifully resist the urge to up the ballad quotient in the wake of "With Arms Wide Open." The opening "Bullets" starts things off with a roar, informing unsuspecting Top 40 listeners of the band's caustic metal roots. Like fellow chart terrors Staind and Incubus, Creed sneaked up on pop radio by first building a strong following in the rock world. Unfortunately, their taste in metal runs directly down the middle of the road: they like it ugly and frustratingly lethargic, along the lines of Godsmack or contemporary Metallica. But they can rock when they want to, and Stapp invests the sarcastic refrain in "Bullets" ("At least look at me when you shoot a bullet through my head") with plenty of catharsis.

Little has changed in the band's approach, but Weathered is significant as the first Creed album recorded as a trio: bassist Brian Marshall left the group two summers ago in a tiff of near-comedic proportions. (During a radio interview, he defended his band on charges of ripping off Pearl Jam by implying that Creed were superior to their Seattle elders, then echoed popular sentiment by complaining about Pearl Jam's recent insistence on writing "songs without hooks." Stapp later publicly rebuked him.) Guitarist/songwriter Mark Tremonti, who with Stapp pens all of the band's music, assumed bass responsibilities in the studio; Virgos frontman Brett Hestla has been filling in live.

Petty scenester bickering aside, Creed are still more interested in asking big questions than in talking trash. The disc's eight-minute centerpiece, "Who's Got My Back?", goes from stoned campfire sing-along to apocalyptic metal stomp; ultimately it tries to solve the most difficult puzzle of all: "What is the truth?" For all the song's arena bluster and reverb-drenched Radiohead guitars, there's really nothing prog about it: it's just one big mantra of disillusionment framed by a tasteful Cherokee Indian prayer-and-percussion intro. Things do get a little tacky when a string section rushes in at the end, but most listeners will already have their lighters thrust irreversibly skyward by then.

Creed fans sucked in by "With Arms Wide Open," a soul-baring love letter from Stapp to his first-born son, will find nothing as openly sentimental here, but the disc's two ballads should provoke their share of lumpy throats. Stapp revisits the youthful angst of My Own Prison on "One Last Breath," which finds him momentarily smiling at the prospect of being six feet under. But it's the lilting "Hide" that could prove to be the most radio-friendly track on the album: with a sappy chorus reminiscent of Dave Matthews Band at their most straightforward and a notable absence of big rock guitars, it's the disc's one concession to the pop charts.

Creed may not change the plot much from album to album, but they have proved themselves adept at making a cohesive statement. Weathered is consistent in quality from top to bottom, and the alternating desperation and idealism of its lyrics coexist happily. The lumbering title track follows a familiar emotional arc for Stapp: he's barely holding together and covered with skin that peels, yet he still finds himself choosing to fight in the end. Things get more hackneyed on the album's artwork, a sub-Lord of the Rings montage of supernatural animation with images of the band superimposed over the top. It's all part of their lofty image, I suppose, but it's sorely missing the meat-and-potatoes appeal of their music.

Fortunately, pretty much every track on Weathered is littered with enough cheap rock thrills to make up for Creed's thematic pretensions. Tremonti is amassing a catalogue of neato guitar intros that's beginning to rival old Metallica: precocious kids around the country are no doubt already scrambling to pick out the pretty melody that opens "Stand Here with Me," a perky pop-metal elegy with a sugar rush of vocal harmonies on the chorus. The menacing "Signs" finds the band in Godsmack mode again, but this time a mellow disco beat and a squeaky-clean organ lick arrive in time to save the chorus.

The disc closes with "Lullaby," a somber duet between Stapp on vocals and Tremonti on nylon-string guitar that wraps things up on a quiet note. It sounds like another love song from the singer to his baby boy -- only this time, the kid just needs to get to sleep, not learn everything there is to know about life. Still, Stapp can't resist the urge to dispense one quick piece of wisdom: "If there's one thing I hope I showed you/Just give love to all." A simple enough creed, and the kind of well-worn verse that everyone needs to sing once in a while.

Creed, Tantric, and Virgos perform next Thursday, February 7, at the FleetCenter. The show is officially sold out.

Issue Date: February 1 - 7, 2002